


T'lemir

by foxofoxford



Series: Space Dragons [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Child Spok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxofoxford/pseuds/foxofoxford
Summary: This is a crossover of Star Trek and the Temeraire Series. Aka: Star Trek with dragons!During a visit to Earth, a six year old Spock discovers a dragon egg in the middle of hatching. Together they form a powerful bond, but will that be enough to keep them safe through danger and trials alike?
Series: Space Dragons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199246
Kudos: 6





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely readers and welcome! I am foxofoxford and I hope you enjoy the first part of my ambitious attempt at a multi-work series. This is part one, which will span a year and a half of Spock's childhood on Vulcan. I have many hopes for this series and I hope you enjoy my take on Spock's childhood. 
> 
> This first part is completed and I shall release a new chapter every week.

Spock entertained a wiggle of fear as the egg he studied trembled. The egg, a little over half a meter tall was smooth opaque grey with pale pink marbling across it's uneven surface. Smooth and hard to the touch, Spock pulled his hand back as the egg trembled again, and a long, narrow crack formed.

There was a sound, like a soft crunch, and the crack doubled in length, then fissured into a latticework of lines that fanned from top to bottom. A shiny, pointed silver nose punched a hole through the shell, and then retreated inside. 

For a moment the shell was still, Spock acutely aware of his heightened breathing and his pounding heart. It was, as his mother would say, the quiet before the storm. The shell suddenly burst apart, shattering into chunks that flew off in all directions. Spock found himself staring into the deep gray eyes of a dragon.

It was smaller than himself, as large as his chest, but when it spread it's shiny and pale wings Spock felt like the small one. 

“Finally,” The dragonet said in a distinctly feminine voice. Spock stared, speechless, his mind racing to process the events that lead to this moment.

He left his parent’s room in the Russian embassy to explore the foreign building. Though he was not explicitly told to stay in his room, he was a Vulcan child and thus more autonomous than a human child of similar age.

Few people were about, as many were working or attending the assembly that hosted father as a featured speaker. In short, Spock had free reign of the building, and curiously poked his head into any rooms which were unlocked.

The 34th door he tried led to a curiously empty room save for a raised dais in the middle. Upon which three eggs of silver rested upon soft purple cushions. It was the warmest room in the whole embassy, a temperature that Vulcan's would consider mild, but hot by human standard. Spock had never seen dragon eggs in person before, and his natural curiosity took over.

A year ago his mother gifted him a detailed book on the species of dragons. Spock read the book eight point nine times. He knew that these eggs belonged to the species commonly known as the Russian Grey. A breed whose weight classifications placed it between courier and lightweight.

"Do you not know how to talk?” The dragonet’s voice broke Spock from his internal reflection. He realized he had not said anything for the last fifteen seconds. 

“Forgive me.” Spock said, feeling as though he had been rude. “I did not intend to ignore you.” Though he fought to push it down, his cheeks warmed with embarrassment.

The dragon inclined her narrow head. Spock noted her skin was shiny with liquid, but that was quickly drying. “I was worried you did not know how to speak at all,” she said, “This is good. I have many questions.”

“You do?”

“Yes, like where I am, who are you, and where can I find some food?”

Spock intended to answer all her questions but the subject of food suddenly made him feel uneasy. For a moment his mind entertained the fantasy that if he did not find her food she would think to eat him instead. “I. . .” He faltered, and cast his gaze about the room for anything that might save him.

The dragonet seemed impatient with his hesitance, “Did you forget to speak again?” It sounded very near to a demand.

“No!” Spock hated how emotional his voice sounded. “You are in the Russian Embassy located in Moscow, Russia of Earth. I am S'chn T'gai Spock of Vulcan. And-” He blinked as an idea formed, “And if you would come with me to my family’s quarters I may use our food replicator to provide you with sustenance.”

Spock held his breath, waiting for the dragonet’s response. She looked about the room, and Spock felt a sudden feeling of unease from her. His telepathic shields were weak, and though he was not in direct contact, her misery was so profound that it leaked into the very air around her.

“I do not know what any of that means.” She said, the agony in her voice called to him, pulling on some primal human need to comfort. “I do not even have a name.” She folded her wings tight to her body, and looked so small and fragile. 

“I can give you a name,” Spock said before thinking. He was not behaving in a rational, Vulcan manner, but like a human who acted on impulse and emotional stimuli. Try as he might, he could not bring himself to rescind his offer for the dragonet looked hopeful.

“Please!” She begged, “Please, for I do not know any names.”

Spock pondered possible names for several seconds before he settled upon the name of distant aunt who passed away only a month ago. “T'lemir,” He announced, and watched as the dragonet considered the name with an air of gravitas.

“T'lemir. . . Yes. This name is pleasing to me.” The dragonet, T'lemir, unfurled from her tight posture and now stood proudly before him. “T'lemir, yes, I like the feel of that. Oh, Spock!” She lunged forward so suddenly and quickly that Spock had no time to react. She collided into him with the force of a large, eager dog and nuzzled her smooth head against his chest and neck.

He pressed his hands to her neck to push her away, but the moment his palms brushed against her soft scales he was bombarded by waves of affection and joy. The sheer size of the emotions stunned him. Their strength and color unlike anything he experienced.

Spock wrapped his arms tighter around her neck, and the emotions enveloped him like comfortable blanket. T'lemir’s body was warm, and her heat spread to him, warming him through. Russia was cold, but here he could imagine he was on Vulcan.

Exactly one minute had passed before T'lemir pulled back far enough to regard him with her large, gray eyes. “I am very hungry, Spock. I would like to eat.”

“Of course,” Spock said. Though he had imagined T'lemir eating him, the fantasy seemed so ridiculous now that he could not imagine why it came to mind. T'lemir loved him, she would never harm him. “Follow me.”

Dragonet and Vulcan left the egg room, the halls just as empty as before. In one moment he recalled his mental map of the embassy, and another to calculate the shortest path to his family's quarters. Which were not far at all. 

They reached his family's quarters without encountering a single person. Unsurprising, as the assembly would not end for another four or five hours. Spock lead the way inside and to the replicator in the adjoining kitchen. T'lemir followed close on his heels and regarded the replicator with open curiosity.

Spock went to input the commands for his preferred meal of plomeek soup, before quickly deciding that may not be so filling for a hungry dragonet. He knew that dragons dinned predominantly upon meat but was unfamiliar with any dish like that. Then he recalled the large roasted turkey his mother’s family served during the Earth holiday of Thanksgiving.

Several button presses later the replicator whirred to life and in seconds a large perfectly roasted turkey appeared. T'lemir's clawed hands snatched the turkey and at once attacked with voracious hunger. Her teeth tore through flesh and bone, which she crunched and swallowed with obvious pleasure. 

“Another!” T'lemir shouted, placing her forelegs onto the wall so her head lined up with the indent where the food was created.

“Please keep your face out of the replicator,” Spock said, “The replicator will not make the food if it senses something occupying the same space as the food it creates.” T'lemir immediately reared back, nearly losing her balance with the motion. Her wings snapped out and she righted herself.

A smile tugged on Spock’s lips, and he imputed the command for another turkey. In all, he replicated four turkeys and calculated that T'lemir had eaten roughly 140% her body weight in food. Her stomach was full and bloated but T'lemir seemed unconcerned.

Her hunger sated, she left the kitchen to explore the rest of the living quarters. Each new piece of furniture was like a puzzle, and for every question about an object’s function of purpose Spock was able to answer. Finally, after several minutes of light exploring she heaved herself onto the couch and spread out.

“I like this.” She lazily announced, “So soft. I think I am ready to sleep.” Perhaps her tiredness was infections, as Spock felt quite tired in that moment. He told T'lemir to wait for his return, then fetched a pillow and blanket from his room. Spock nestled into her side, against the curve of her velvety stomach. Like he would with I-Chaya when he was young. 

Though Spock would not openly admit it, but he missed the comfort of his pet. Especially while on Earth. Though he was half-human, Earth was alien to him. T'lemir, however, was even warmer than I-Chaya, and with the blanket wrapped around him, her heat was close to what he would feel on Vulcan.

“This is nice.” T'lemir said around a long yawn. Spock silently agreed. His fingers brushed her neck, and he fell asleep to her feelings of deep contentment.

Spock woke an hour later and held no lingering traces of “grogginess” that humans sometimes experience upon waking up. T'lemir was still asleep, her chest expanding and shirking with long, measured breathes. 

For the time being, Spock was content to remain nestled against T'lemir’s side and decided that since he was not inclined to move he would meditate. It was strange, at first, to meditate while laying prone, but soon his breathing evened out and he fell back into the depths of his mind.

Spock’s mind was not like most Vulcans. He knew this though melds with his father, whose mind was like a many leveled building connected by an endless number of halls. Every hall and room a path to carefully collected and maintained knowledge. It was structured and ordered, everything in place no matter the visit. 

Then there was Spock's mind, an ever rotating wind that drifted across the desert, collecting and tossing thought debris at whim. Information suspended within the core of the wind, but free to slip out unnoticed, often at the very moment of recollection. Today his mind was a storm of gathered thoughts and emotions caught in a pull to strong to escape. 

Many thoughts were centered around T'lemir, and the emotions she evoked. First and foremost, loneliness. Lonely because he was the only child at the embassy and his parents were focused on the assembly. As a Vulcan child of the age of six, he was considered able to care for himself and his own mental stimulation.

Another feeling, this one frustration. Spock had taken it upon himself to make progress on his current learning track, but before long grew frustrated by his slow pace. Spock possessed Vulcan eidetic memory, but there were times when it failed him. He would begin a comprehension quiz, would read the question, but the required information was no longer there. 

He could read a passage, understand it, and recall the key points. Between then and the time to test his understanding, the knowledge was gone, hurled from his mind. Spock left his room in the embassy to explore because he could not be a perfect Vulcan child. 

Spock looked towards those swirling thoughts, and let them go as new, warm wind surrounded him. Affection and joy, joy and affection, so bright and deep Spock wrapped himself in them. He did not need to feel lonely, and in the wave of that affection neither could he feel hate or resentment.

A thought was plucked from the desert, but the affection kept it away from him. Distantly, Spock recognized the thought as a clinical self reflection of his current behavior. It was not logical to dismiss his darker feelings. Nor was it the Vulcan way to embrace the emotions of T'lemir.

He knew he must pull himself free of these emotions. Knew better still that the affection T'lemir showered him with was something he craved so deeply it scared him. Spock wanted love, to be loved and T'lemir, precious T'lemir gave it freely.

His breathing picked up, and Spock broke the surface into the waking world. He awoke to T'lemir peering at him.

“You were not sleeping.” She said, and he sensed her curiosity.

“No, I was not. I was in a meditative state.” He answered, “Meditation is necessary for Vulcans.”

T'lemir’s head pressed closer to his own, as though she had never seen him before. “What is a Vulcan?”

Spock answered the question with ease, “Vulcan refers to the species of Vulcanoid native to the planet Vulcan. The Vulcan people have adapted to life on an arid, desert planet and are capable of touch-telepathy. Vulcans have significant mental prowess, and are able to control bodily functions through thought and willpower alone.”

“What is a desert?” And before Spock could answer yet more questions poured out, “And what is touch-telepathy? And can I learn to control my bodily functions?”

It was simple to answer her questions, but quicker to realize this was only the beginning of a seemingly endless stream. Soon, she will have questions that words alone could not satiate and would require a more thorough approach. With some hesitation, Spock extracted himself from her side, and fetched his personal padd

The padd connected to a screen display on the wall, and Spock projected images of Vulcan onto it. T'lemir made a shrill noise of pleasure, and eagerly studied each image provided. Through the use of his padd, Spock was able to answer all her questions. He even found himself willing, when asked, to demonstrate his touch-telepathy.

For every correct prediction of her feelings or fleeting thought, she made that same shrill note, like someone had amplified a song-bird's chirp to three time's it's normal volume. Before long into their game, the dragonet announced her hunger and asked if Spock would replicate more turkeys.

Spock agreed and as the turkey materialized the doors to his family’s quarters slid open, revealing father and mother. Spock froze in place. In that very moment he suddenly realized the situation he was caught within. T'lemir was too busy devouring her turkey to notice, though she wasn’t eating nearly so fast as her first meal time.

It was only when she finished the turkey that she realized Spock’s attention was elsewhere, and twisted her head around. For a moment no one said anything. The two adults stared at the dragonet and child and they stared back at the adults.

T'lemir sprung forward to investigate the two strangers. “You are a Vulcan!” She announced to father with no small measure of pride. Then her head swiveled to Amanda who she examined carefully.

The dragonet announced, “You are not a Vulcan. What are you?”

As one, father and mother looked to Spock who felt like a mute. Mother dropped her gaze to the curious dragonet and said, “I am a human.” Mother's eyes were warm with kindness and Spock illogically hoped this was a good sign.

T'lemir bobbed her head, then, like a dam that broke, questions poured out. Such as what made humans different from Vulcans? What planet do Humans originate from? Are humans touch-telepathic too? And so on. Mother laughed and answered each question with ease.

Father paid no mind to mother or T'lemir, his gaze steady upon Spock, and silently impressed the need for Spock to explain how a dragon came to be in their quarters. Spock, unsure how to explain without incriminating himself, stayed silent.

It was T'lemir who broke their silent impasse when she asked what names mother and father went by and mother's answer, “My name is Amanda Greyson, and this is my bondmate Sarek.”

T'lemir reclined on her hind legs and proudly announced, “I am T'lemir.” Which caught father's whole attention. Bearing the name of a recently deceased relative, it was a simple, logical conclusion as to who gave her that name. 

“This was very nice,” T'lemir said, oblivious to reactions of the people around her, “But I am still hungry and I quite like the turkeys the replicator makes.” And with that she immediately turned, her tail gently brushed against the legs of his parents. She returned to Spock's side, and watched the empty space within the replicator with the intense gaze of a predator studying the prey. 

Mother laughed, and gently guided father towards their room, “Spock, take care of our guest while your father and I freshen up in our rooms.”

Spock nodded gravely, but knew he was not ‘off the hook’ for the actions that lead T'lemir to their quarters. That he had kidnapped T'lemir was not only a logical conclusion, but the truth. Spock felt uneasy, and his stomach twisted like a rock was dropped inside, forming a deep pit of shame. 

He could not dwell on this for long, as T'lemir purposefully nudged her nose against his hand, and sent the feeling of impatience through the connection.

That jarred him from his spiraling thoughts, and he dutifully replicated five turkeys for her while his parents discussed his fate in their room. After T'lemir finished the fifth turkey and was chewing the last of the bones, his parents returned to the open living area. 

T'lemir dropped the remains of her meal and bounded over to them. Spock trailed behind, and ready to face the consequences. It was illogical to put off conversing with his parents and they should know that it was not his intention to take T'lemir from her siblings.

Mother smiled down at T'lemir and secretly winked at Spock. “T'lemir,” She greeted the dragonet, “How was your meal?"

“Very good,” T'lemir answered, “I quite like turkey and I do enjoy the way the bones crunch. I am your guest?”

“You were invited to our quarters so that makes you our guest. It means that we shall see to your needs while you are here.” Though mother radiated warmth and good humor, father’s face was blank. Spock strove to emulate his father’s control over his emotions, but now found himself unnerved by the empty expression.

Father asked T'lemir, “And how did you come to our quarters?” 

“Spock brought me here because I was hungry.” T'lemir easily answered, but her wings were now tight against her side. “I really wanted to hatch because I was so hungry,” she quickly added. Spock stepped forward to spare her from father's intense gaze. 

“As the room she hatched in could not provide for her needs, and our quarters were not far, the simple solution was to bring her here.” He straightened and willed his racing heart to calm. “I realize now that I should have brought her hatching to the attention of the embassy and I recognize that I acted illogically.”

Mother laughed, cutting the tension in the air. Father turned to raise one eyebrow at her which mother returned with a smile and said, “You are not in trouble, Spock. The embassy will understand, after all a hungry dragonet could hardly be denied.” She slid down onto her knees and gently stroked the top of T'lemir's smooth arrowhead shaped head.

“You won’t be in any trouble either. Once a dragon sets their mind to hatching, humans have to accept it.” T'lemir relaxed under his mother’s hand, and loosened her stiff hold upon her wings. 

The dragonet dipped her head low, “I did not intend to cause trouble,” Her voice barely audible.

“None caused,” Father said, startling both Spock and dragonet. Father looked resigned to the situation, perhaps because mother showed no concern. “I shall report to the embassy of T'lemir’s hatching and we shall see what they have to say on the matter.”

Mother motioned for Spock and T'lemir to join her on the couch and laughed as T'lemir nestled close into her side. Spock sat himself on the other side of the dragonet and watched as father talked to the room’s communication panel.

“What a lovely color,” Mother cooed at the dragonet, “Like polished silver.” T'lemir preened and held herself straighter. Solidly silver across most of her body, save for her wings, where faint, zig-zag stripes of pale pink and dusky gray broke the continuous color. “You are very pretty T'lemir.”

“Of course I am.” The dragonet said as if such a thing could ever be called into question. Her head swiveled around to look at Spock, and he anticipated her question.

“Your coloring is pleasing to the eye,” He said, and drank of her deep and openly expressed affection. She swiped her tail across his legs then curled herself between mother and son with a satisfied sigh. 

Spock spared a glance towards his father, before gently and quickly brushing his hand across her scales.

Mother caught the motion, but there was only acceptance in her eyes. “Perhaps you could spend the night with us,” She suggested. To any other it might sound casual, but Spock knew his mother, and recognized her excitement. Once, mother confided in him a childhood-love of dragons. A wonder, he was told, was common among human children.

For the first time, Spock found he could understand the sentiment. He had never met a dragon before, only observed them from afar or through a padd screen. Even now, were he to look outside the windows of his quarters he could eventually spy a dragon or two flying freely about.

T'lemir warmed immediately to the idea, and openly showed her excitement, positively quivering with joy. “I would like that very much! I feel quite happy when Spock rests against my side.” Mother’s eyebrows shot up, but she made no comment and Spock tried to hide his embarrassed flush.

“I was tired and T'lemir’s warmth reminded me of I-Chaya and home.” He said in a low voice. T'lemir asked who I-Chaya was. “I-Chaya is my pet sehlat. He is at home on Vulcan.” Which brought on the usual inquiring questions as to what a sehlat was and if Spock would show her a picture.

Spock had no sooner stood to grab his padd when father announced that a Mr. Orlav would come by soon. Father took his seat in an armchair and began a quiet conversation with mother. T'lemir looked between the two them, and with some wiggling turned herself around to face Spock.

“Do you think Sarek likes me?” She asked, trying to be quiet but even her gentle tone was all to audible for Vulcan hearing. From the corner of Spock’s eye, he could see no discernible shift in his father’s face.

Spock knew the correct answer. That to like or not like someone based upon so little interaction was illogical. That the word ‘like’ was vague and held no real meaning to Vulcans. T'lemir, though surprisingly intelligent, was only a few hours old and he did not wish to be so blunt with her. “You have given no reason for my father to dislike you,” He said after a pause.

T'lemir did not seem convinced, but she recovered well, asking what father meant. “Father is the generally male parent of a child, though he may be considered as such not only through blood relation but also by the social or means of law. Sarek is my father, and Amanda is my mother. A mother is the same as a father, but mothers are generally female, and are typically the ones who give birth to children.”

It was a long answer, but Spock hoped enough to satisfy. T'lemir, surprisingly, had no further questions. “Then I have a father and mother as well?”

“Yes.”

“I would like to meet them.” T'lemir said, but then quickly added, “But I am in no rush to meet them. I am a guest here.”

Mother and father seemed to have finished their meeting. Now, mother talked to T'lemir and if the dragon would be interested in trying different foods for dinner. T'lemir expressed shock that food other than turkey existed before expressing her excitement at trying new foods. Mother began to list dishes that T'lemir would find pleasing and the animals the replicated meat was based upon.

Father and Spock were content to listen.

After ten minutes, a chime announced the presence of a visitor and father let them in with a quiet, “open”.

A Russian man with short-cropped red hair and dressed in complex Earth attire walked in. He was accompanied by a dark skinned woman who carried a padd. The man clapped his hands, took one look at T'lemir and said, “What a beauty!”

“I like him,” T'lemir said before preening.

Mr. Orlav and his assistant took a seat on the couch parallel from the one they sat upon. “She looks to be in good health, don’t you agree Miss Ivana?” Miss Ivana nodded and smiled as she jotted notes onto her padd. Mr. Orlav then looked to Spock. “So she talked right away with you?”

Spock nodded, too worried to speak. His earlier fears of being punished for taking T'lemir had returned and he could not quite contain their influence upon him. Mr. Orlav seemed to sense this, and he smiled with more warmth. “And you named her?” Another nod. “And then you fed her?” A third nod.

Mother helpfully added, “He replicated whole roast turkeys for her.”

Mr. Orlav beamed, “That was a good choice, son.” Spock’s eyes narrowed, as he did not like how Terrans so easily referred to him by nicknames such as “son” or “kid” or worse yet, “kiddo”. Mr. Orlav continued on, “Though Dragons can be omnivorous, their preferred diet is meat.”

Spock resisted the urge to inform Mr. Orlav that he knew that already, having learned it from his book on dragons. Instead he said, “It was the logical choice.” Miss Ivana gave him an approving nod.

Father spoke next, “If we have caused any trouble-” But was cut off by a wave of Mr. Orlav’s hand.

“I assure you Ambassador there is no trouble at all. In fact, I’m rather glad your son was there. There is no predicting when a dragon will choose to hatch, and though we try to be there for the big moment it can not always be so. I am pleased that your son was there to see to our young hatchling’s needs.”

T'lemir said, “Spock was very attentive to my needs.” And Spock found himself pleased by the pride in her voice, as though it could only be him to care for her.

“I am satisfied,” Father said with a nod of his head, “That we have made no offense and that my son was able to assist.” And Spock tried to resist the swell of pride he felt at those words, because his father only said that for appearance sake.

Mr. Olav beamed, however, mistakenly taking the response as the words of a proud father. Miss Ivana spoke up, “I am happy to report that her sire and dam are pleased by this turn of events, and have requested to speak with all of you in the morning.”

Mother nodded, and casually added, “I have invited T'lemir to spend the night with us.”

The two humans nodded, and looked as though they expected no less. Mr. Orlav called it T'lemir’s first sleepover. Then Miss Ivana asked T'lemir to come over to an open space for a quick, informal physical. 

T'lemir readily followed Miss Ivana’s direction and went through several motions such as stretching her wings wide out, standing on her hind legs, or holding her tail straight. Miss Ivana would gently prod a muscle or limb, and happily reported that T'lemir was perfectly formed.

When T'lemir asked when dinner would be served, the two humans made their goodbyes, but not before Mr. Orlav told his father that details on the morning meeting will be sent to the room comm before long. T'lemir bid the two a cheerful farewell, and upon their departure went immediately to the replicator.

Dinner was quiet, save for the sounds of bones crunched between small, sharp teeth. Mother’s eyes darted between Spock and his father. Spock could not tell what expression was on her face. When they each finished their prospective meals, mother suggested dragonet and child watch a holovid together in Spock’s room.

T'lemir agreed at once when Spock explained what a holovid was, and swiftly curled up in Spock’s bed, a drowsy look about her. He slid next to her, and for the first time in many years, did not protest as his mother brought the blanket over him and tucked them in.

“Don’t worry about your father,” She whispered to him. “He is unused to dragons, and it’s about time he learned.” There was mischief in mother’s eyes, and an equal measure of fondness. “Where there’s humans there will be dragons.

“You know, I don’t think I ever told you this.” Mother leaned in, her eyes flickering to T'lemir who watched them both with interest, “Humans call dragons our ‘other half’ and the dragons say the same to us. There is no human without dragon, and no dragon without human.” Her fingers skimmed the tips of his bangs, and she repeated the motion across T'lemir’s brow.

“Dragons better us, and we better them. Your bond is special, and I can’t wait.”

Spock wanted to ask what exactly mother could not wait for, but his thoughts focused instead on the finality of her words. Mother spoke as though he and T'lemir will stay together. Logically it was not so, as this trip to Russia will end, and Spock must return with his family to Vulcan. 

Mother started a holovid, a live-action telling of the fictional tale of a boy and his dragon and their journey across treacherous mountains. T'lemir instantly took to the story, and struggled to remain awake. She had tucked the edge of her wing under his hand, and he felt everything from her.

Eventually she succumbed to sleep, and her feelings of content and satisfaction pulled him down after her, even though he did not need the sleep. He dreamed, an uncommon occurrence for him, of riding atop a dragon’s back over endless land below.


	2. Russia

Spock woke long before T'lemir, but remained tucked into her warm side. He meditated while prone and addressed each thought or feeling as it came to him. Half way into his meditation he realized that a portion of these thoughts and feelings were not his own but T'lemir’s. His hand was still against her skin, and he felt a distinct sense of loss when he pulled away.

These thoughts too were addressed in his meditation. He knew it was illogical to become so attached to T'lemir, the feeling far deeper than their short time together would suggest. Even more illogical to cling to the feelings she evoked within himself. Longing and want were not Vulcan emotions.

Yet he could not abandon these feelings, just as he could not bear to think of leaving T'lemir behind.

For the remainder of his meditation he formulated arguments for remaining on Earth with T'lemir, or to bring T'lemir with them to Vulcan. Humans had long since mastered a dragon’s massive appetite and dragons served Starfleet both on Earth and in space. He had put his arguments into the ideal order of presentation when T'lemir's nose nudged his shoulder.

“I’m hungry,” She said, and stared at him expectantly. They left Spock’s room together and came across father in the living area of the quarters. He did not acknowledge either of them, and Spock knew father was deep in his own medications.

“You must take your food back to my room so we do not disturb father,” Spock whispered before replicating six turkeys for her. T'lemir whisked each one back to his room, and Spock was satisfied with her discretion.

He closed the door, and at T'lemir’s urging, restarted the holovid from the part she last remembered. They watched in silence, curled together on his bed. Hours later mother entered the room and paused their latest holo.

“Come you two,” Mother said, “We’re going to eat breakfast then make our way to the embassy pavilion to meet T'lemir's parents.”

Though T'lemir announced she was hungry, she ate with hesitating bites. Nervousness hung over her, but Spock did not know what to say or do to assuage her fears. He did not know what her parents were like, or what they would have to say to her and his family. Speculation only served to highlight his own growing nerves.

Spock forced himself to reflect upon the teachings of Surak. Logic and reason, unchecked emotions lead to unchecked minds. It allowed him to control the mercurial muscles of expression upon his face and create a smooth mask that any Vulcan would be proud of.

Once they were finished with their meals, and the plates set into the kitchen cleaners, they made their way across the embassy.

T'lemir's nervous continued to grow and press upon Spock's shields. She would walk too fast, then too slow. She attempted multiple times to brush against his hands, but he kept them clasped behind his back. He was all too aware of his father’s presence beside him.

Words he wished to say, but could not, dominated his thoughts. Comfort her, his mind shouted, but he could not bring himself to reach for her as they left the steel walls of the embassy and out into the open-air pavilion. 

Two dragons waited for them, one larger and of deep gray with vivid pink tiger stripes down her wings, the other a fog gray with hazy white wings and pasty pink wing stripes. Both were nearly as tall as father at the shoulder, and wore extravagant sashes of colorful fabrics, along with necklaces of fine silver adorned with emeralds. There was an air of serenity about them, as calm as the surface of a garden pond that reflected the winter sky.

T'lemir tensed upon seeing them, her eyes wide as she looked rapidly between the two of them. Spock tensed beside her, his heart beating rapidly. It was illogical to fear dragons. Dragons were as intelligent as any human or Vulcan. Dragons defended their humans fiercely. Were threatened by severe depression when a treasured human passed away.

“It will be alright.” He said to T'lemir. She inclined her head, and Spock quickly brushed his fingers along her neck, sending feelings of calm and strength through the connection. Though Spock had not truly felt either at the moment, he did the moment T'lemir reflected those feelings back upon him.

Father and mother were waiting for them before the dragons, as they had continued on, perhaps to give him and T'lemir a moment to compose themselves. The larger dragon inclined her head when they approached, “I am Allochka, and this is my mate, Ippolit. Greetings Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda. Greetings to your brood Spock, and greetings to our T'lemir.”

T'lemir’s eyes somehow went even wider when her dam said her name. “G-greetings!” She squeaked.

Ippolit extended his head to gently nuzzle T'lemir with the tip of his nose, “Our impatient little one.” He said, but the fondness in the words left Spock and T'lemir breathless. “We could not be happier.” He continued, “I dare say fate has aligned in our favor.”

Allochka rumbled an agreement, “As more of dragonkind looks to the stars and life on other planets, there are many fears that must yet be addressed. For many years my mate and I have worked upon a program to gauge how dragons may adapt to living on alien words and among alien cultures. Everything is in place, save the destination and willing dragons.”

“Older dragons can be quite stubborn,” Ippolit said, “Those not bonded to human families or individuals are more than content to stay planet side and live life that is familiar to them. Young dragons are eager, but scared to leave their humans behind. And those bred for space often lothe being planet-side for long periods of time.”

Allochka inclined her head, her deep grey eyes heavy with thoughtfulness, “We considered sending eggs to planets willing to participate but no dragon likes the idea of sending an egg so far off to a strange people. Especially those not acustommed to handling them. Nor did we wish to heap such a heavy responsibility upon an alien culture.”

“Vulcans value logic do they not?” Ippolit said in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer, “Then let us make the argument why permitting T'lemir to return with you to Vulcan is the logical choice.”

Spock couldn’t stifle his gasp of surprise. T'lemir was still as a statue beside him, and Spock thought he could hear the thundering beat of her heart. When neither father nor mother protested the proposal, Allochka and Ippolit took turns outlining their case.

It was thus: Vulcan is one of the founding planets of the Federation, and thus a prime candidate for the program. Their preliminary research suggests that Vulcan’s climate is agreeable to dragonkind. Vulcans have worked closely with humans in the past, but little with dragons. If the Vulcan people are to continue to work closely with humans and Earth, then they must grow and develop a relationship with dragonkind.

Funding and resources were already secured for the program, and thus Ambassador Sarek need not expend any personal resources to ensure T'lemir is properly cared for. Dragons needed little save a pavilion to shelter in, and dragons of T'lemir's weight category were easy to provide for. Her food and nutrition needs could be provided through a specialty replicator that is waiting and ready for a home.

They rounded out their argument with the startling statement, “Besides, T'lemir has clearly bonded strongly to your brood Spock and to separate them now would be cruel.” The two dragons and father regarded each other for several moments.

Mother shot Spock and T'lemir a wink and father spoke, “I can find no argument against your logic. I shall inform the Vulcan High Council of your proposal, so that in the future dragonkind may find their way to Vulcan with greater ease. As the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth it is my honor to accept this duty.”

T'lemir leapt into Spock’s side, nearly knocking him over for she had grown larger sine hatching. “This is wonderful!” She cheered, nuzzling the side of her cheek against his own, “I did not want to be parted from you at all. Even thinking of it made my heart ache. I’m going to Vulcan!”

Allochka’s deep rumble tempered T'lemir’s excitement until she realized it was a good sound, “We are happy to hear this, and hope you would not mind one last request.” She waited for father’s agreement then continued, “We ask you to extend your stay for two weeks. Dragons grow fast once out of the shell, and we would ensure this initial growth proceeds smoothly and with no complication.”

“And you need not stay at the embassy.” Ippolit said, “My mate and I have a home here in the city. Our humans are in the countryside at this time. We would have gone with them, but delayed for the sake of the assembly.”

Father inclined his head, “If we would not be imposing upon your hospitality, we would be gracious to accept.”

“It is of no burden on us. Our family is well to do.” Allochka puffed her chest out, and the emeralds upon her necklace sparkled with the motion. Dragons were famously taken by wealth. Even as humanity as a whole steadily moved towards a society without need for it, the dragons clung to the prestige of wealth and resources.

Spock and his family parted from the two dragons, who promised to arrange for a transport to take them and their belongings to their home in the city. Mother said it would be nice to get away from the embassy and see more of the city.

It took Spock 75% longer to pack his things, as T'lemir would rummage through his bag with her nose or slow him down with questions that required answers. He set his luggage next to his parent’s and was surprised to see Mr. Orlav and Miss Ivana waiting with his parents.

“We wished to see T'lemir off,” Miss Ivana said, “It’ll be quiet here at the embassy until her siblings hatch.”

“One’s shell is starting to harden I think,” Mr. Orlav said.

“You say that every week.”

“I was right about T'lemir’s egg.” Mr. Orlav said, he walked to the right of father, while Miss Ivana walked beside T'lemir. “A broken clock is right once a day,” was her reply. They escorted Spock’s family to the transport and made unnecessary wishes for safe travel, then bid T'lemir farewell and say that she was always welcome in Russia.

“They were quite nice,” T'lemir said once the transport was off. She was too big to sit on the human-sized seats but squeezed herself upon one anyways. Spock studied her carefully and calculated that she has grown by at least half a foot since the day before. 

Dragonets grew rapidly upon leaving the shell. The remarkable speed of their growth was still beyond modern science to properly quantify. There are many theories on the subject but no general consensus beyond the simple fact that dragons were marvels of nature.

As the transport picked up speed, she pressed her face close to the glass windows, and asked a non-stop stream of questions about the sights. Spock found he did not mind answering each one, nor when he had to repeat himself because she talked over his response.

The home Allochka and Ippolit offered was comfortable and well-lived in, with many reminders of their real human owners. More importantly there were big sliding walls that opened into a large dragon pavilion. 

Their two extra weeks in Moscow passed in a blur. T'lemir spent most of her time with her parents, learning the basics of flight from them. When she was not flying she was eating, and when she was not eating she slept. It left very little time for them to spend together, but T'lemir made time by seeking his company at meal times or curled around him at night. 

Spock savored every moment with T'lemir, the sight of her flying through the air evoked emotions he could not quantify beyond a desire to join her in the sky. 

From her very first flight she was fluid in motion, moving gracefully with the wind and after a little encouragement from her parents, performing a variety of acrobatic stunts. Her strength grew, and she stayed in the air for longer and longer until she could fly for hours and still have the strength to go for more.

Several people from the embassy came by, each a member of Allochka and Ippolit’s program. A few were contractors who needed permission to build T'lemir’s pavilion and to install the specialty replicator. One of the outside doorways of the house had to be expanded but otherwise their home on Vulcan was accessible for T'lemir, even at full size.

By the end of the two weeks, T'lemir’s shoulder was even with the top of mother’s. Her growth would finish over the next few months, but the dragon physician said it won't be long before she reached the end of her growth cycle. 

“Are we going to Vulcan now?” T'lemir asked once more as Spock packed his minimal luggage. Once again Spock answered in the affirmative. He gave up expressing that the answer had not changed since her first inquiry.

T'lemir’s excitement was so powerful that Spock could sense it without the need for touch. He took care to not accidentally brush against her; least her powerful emotions overwhelm his weak shields.

The family’s luggage was taken ahead to their ship, a human vessel that was willing to make the detour to Vulcan. Their previously assigned ship, a Vulcan vessel designed for ferrying diplomats and ambassadors could not wait the weeks for T'lemir’s growth and left on schedule. The human ship was the more logical choice in the end, as human vessels were designed for both humanoids and dragons.

T'lemir paced small circles around Spock and his family. At the request of Allochka and Ippolit they waited in the pavilion before departing, “What is space travel like?” She inquired at large.

“It is comparable to riding the transport,” Spock said, “Only increase the size of the transport by roughly one thousand. Spaceships are also remarkably faster than basic planet transports due to access to warp speeds. To you, however, it will feel as though you are within a building like on Earth.”

“You shall have to show me diagrams and equations, as I find it very hard to imagine.”

Spock inclined his head, “I shall gather and present all information you require on the intricacies of space travel and space-worthy ships.” He was prepared when T'lemir nuzzled his chest with her head, and kept his shields strong. Still, some emotion leaked through and he felt her deep affection.

When Allochka and Ippolit arrived with several humans in tow, who carted a large crate behind them. One held a grand gift box colored dark blue. A second held a black canvas bag across two arms. The dragons gently nuzzled their heads against T'lemir’s in turn.

“We present these gifts to you, T'lemir.” Ippolit said and with a slight sweep of his wing the human holding the blue box stepped forth and opened the lid. Inside the box was an ebony necklace inlaid with pearls and pink quartz and beside it dragon claw bands of silver and inlaid with more pearl and quartz.

T'lemir turned to Spock but he moved without her need to prompt. He first took the necklace and secured it around her neck as she crouched down. Then slipped the claw bands onto her left hand. Though T'lemir was quiet, Spock felt her joy and awe.

Allochka inclined her head towards the human with the black bag and that was opened to reveal what Spock initially thought looked like Vulcan robes. With a short, barely contained gasp he realized that it was a Vulcan robe but styled for a dragon. The two humans worked in tandem to dress T'lemir.

First T'lemir eased her head through the neck-hole, then they took a length of fabric that would lie across her back and ended midway down her tail. Two long flaps of cloth that connected to the neck piece were pulled across her sides and linked to back piece. The robes were short to allow T'lemir a full range of motion.

Spock noted father’s faint look of approval as the three of them admired T'lemir in her new robes. Though, her attention quickly turned towards the large, mysterious crate.

“A flight harness,” Ippolit said, “With a matching aviator harness for brood Spock.” T'lemir and Spock turned to each other at the same moment and Spock felt as though they were thinking the same thing. With a harness Spock could join T'lemir on her flights and experience her aerial grace for himself.

“After brood Spock has appropriately prepared himself. We have sent along the appropriate instructions to your comm.” Allochka said, then continued, “Though the art pieces could not be brought here in time to present. We have sent the documentation of purchase to our brood’s personal account. The painter is of skill and I am certain his pieces will only increase in value.”

After a moment T'lemir gathered herself enough to answer, “Th-thank you. For all of this.” Her gaze was torn between her necklace and claw bands, as though she could not admire just one.

Ippolit gave another rumbling sound of approval, “The Vulcan people are known for their intelligence and control. Learn from them, and instruct them in the ways of dragons. Don’t look so scared, little one.”

“But I will be the only dragon on Vulcan,”

“You will be a dragon on Vulcan,” Ippolit gently corrected. Dragons had few facial expressions, instead they conveyed much of their emotion through tone, and Ippolit voice carried an assurance of confidence. “Your dam and I are but a call away. There are many ways to learn of dragons and our history. We have faith in you.”

T'lemir made a strange, low keening sound that sent a shiver down Spock’s spine. Then, quietly, like a solemn oath, “I promise to be worthy of your faith.”

An air of sadness hung over them as their transport carried them away from the two dragon’s Moscow home. This transport was large, with a wide flat cushion perfectly sized for T'lemir. She ignored it in favor of laying down in the aisle so she could lay her head upon Spock’s lap.

As the city passed by their window he gently stroked the top of her head, and shared in her feelings of longing and hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and if you like my writing please consider buying me a ko-fi! https://ko-fi.com/foxofoxford 
> 
> Next week, T'lemir and Spock are on their way to Vulcan, and are granted the chance to meet the three dragon breeds created specifically for space travel and exploration!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed my writing and wish to help support me I have a ko-fi! I am a college student and I hope to one day be able to at least partially support myself through writing. This is solely if you enjoy my writing and wish to give. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading. Please tell me what you think in the comments! Until next week <3
> 
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